Collapsed in the Act of Being
by Lelek
Summary: In the modern world of assassins and trained killers, Axel and Roxas are the best there is. But there's always more to the game than that and sometimes the rules can change without warning. AkuRoku


Notes: So, generally I tend towards urban fantasy and, actually, sci-fi, which is where ultimately most of my Kingdom Hearts AU verses will end up. Then I have this. This is gangster!verse. It's also the longest one-shot I've ever written and was in-progress for about two months before I finally reached an ending I was satisfied with. It's still not quite what I wanted, and maybe I'll go back to tweak it a bit more later, but it's enough.

Disclaimer: Nope. I've got five games, a soundtrack and a poster. The quoted lyrics are from "Hey Pretty" by Poe and "Goodbye Mr A" by The Hoosiers. The title is bastardised from a line in the song "What I'm Trying to Say" by Stars. Stars is one of my KH fic bands and you should all check them out.

Warnings: Bad Shit goes down: there are at least implications of sex, violence, swearing, swords, guns, drinking, smoking, lying, homicide, bad driving and an Axel and Roxas who just don't play very nice.

**Collapsed in the Act of Being**

_Well, it's three AM, I'm out here riding again_

_Through the wicked, winding streets of my world_

_I make a wrong turn, brake it, now I'm too far gone_

_I got a siren on my tail and that ain't the fine I'm looking for_

"Turn it up!" Roxas shouted over the deafening roar of engine and wind, leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed, letting hot desert air whip through his hair. "I like this song."

"This music's pretty girlie, Rox," Axel teased, flicking the dial sharply and sending the volume all the way up to compete with the white noise. "People are gonna start thinking you're going soft, listening to this shit."

Roxas didn't rise to the bait. "What people? The only person I see on a daily basis is you and I don't give a fuck what you think."

"You're killing me, Roxas, breaking my fragile little heart into pieces."

Roxas flipped him off casually, long nails that could stand being trimmed looking very pale in the sunshine and eyes still closed, and sang along with the chorus, "_Hey pretty, don't you wanna take a ride with me, through my world?_"

"You know I do, baby. I'd go with you anywhere." Axel laughed and tilted his head forward so his mirrored sunglasses slid down his long nose, batting his eyelashes at Roxas over the top of the frames.

"You're an idiot. Watch the road." He let his head fall to the side and opened wickedly blue eyes to give Axel a Look. His hair was even more tousled than usual thanks to the open top of the little black sports car carrying them careening for Las Vegas. It gave him a deliciously debauched look that made it hard to believe he was a day over eighteen.

"We're in the middle of the fucking desert, _Rox-as_," Axel drawled lazily, steering with his knee so he could light another cigarette. "What're we gonna hit if I don't?"

"Those cacti look pretty tough, _Ax-el_," Roxas shot back. "I don't know if this piece of shit car could handle it and I definitely _don't_ wanna die in the wilds of backwater fucking Nevada."

"You worry too much," Axel replied cheerfully, one hand loosely back on the wheel. "I haven't killed us yet, have I?"

"Not reassuring, Axel." Roxas shook his head wryly and pulled his own sunglasses out of the glove compartment, sliding them on to keep sun and unfortunate insects out of his eyes. "How much farther to good old sin city?"

"Thirty minutes, forty tops." He shrugged one shoulder diffidently. "We made good time, thanks of course to my brilliantly inspired driving."

"Uh huh, we only had to outrun the cops _twice_ this trip." His eye-roll was hidden by dark lenses. "It might be a new record."

"You know you love it, sweetheart." Axel tossed him a devil-may-care grin and flicked the last of his cigarette into the roadside dust. One day, Roxas was sure, he'd start a fire that way, but it hadn't happened yet. Or, at least, not in the years Roxas had known him.

"You just keep telling yourself that." He rested his elbow on top of the window, the open cuff of his black shirt billowing around his pale hand. "We do have everything, right? It would really piss me off if we got all the way to Vegas only to realise that we left something key in LA."

"We've got it all." Axel shook his head, amused at the blonde's obsessive tendency to check and double-check and then check again for good measure. "My guns, your swords, enough cigarettes to keep an army marching for a week - all the essentials, really. Though, honestly, Roxie, those swords are a bitch to carry around. Not exactly the picture of discretion, you know? I don't see why you can't just use a gun like everyone else - they're faster, neater and a hell of a lot subtler."

"Any idiot can use a gun," Roxas shot back disdainfully. "It's like the internet - point and click. A sword's graceful, elegant. Tasteful. And, anyway, you can't talk about weird weapons with that revolver you take everywhere."

"My revolver's classy, very slick. A gentleman's weapon. A semi-automatic is a little smoother, I admit, but the revolver has tradition behind it." Axel grinned at him again, toothily. "I'd bet you I'm the only professional killer still using one in this tacky post-modern age we live in."

"And you dare to criticise my katanas?" A blonde eyebrow arched delicately over the top of his glasses. "I'm keeping an art alive here, Axel. Besides, it's distinctive - my signature. There isn't a Mafia man in America who doesn't know what death by the sword means."

Axel smirked sardonically. "You just wanna be different."

"Everyone's gotta find their niche," his partner agreed neutrally. "Are we there yet?"

-

One of the best forms of entertainment Las Vegas had to offer, Axel and Roxas agreed, was watching what were normally no doubt quite reasonable individuals succumb to the allure of the casino. Every time they went to Vegas, which admittedly was not all that often, they happily spent hours getting very drunk and playing spectator.

Which was how it came to be that, at a quarter past three on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, they were sitting in one such casino, sharing a bottle of vodka and providing colourful commentary on the never-ending show.

"That one's got a wife and kids at home," Roxas said, nodding towards a middle-aged, balding businessman whispering in the ear of a giggling redhead of indeterminate age with a pair of the biggest tits Roxas had seen in quite awhile. And they normally worked out of LA. He tossed back a shot.

Axel, rubbing slow circles into Roxas' thigh, smirked. "They always think they're being so clever, taking off the wedding ring and all that, but it's totally obvious. Those tits are fake, too."

"I don't think he cares. And stop checking other people out - you're gonna make me jealous and then I'll have to kill them and we'll have to leave town without finishing the job, which means we won't get paid."

Axel just laughed and poured himself more vodka. "You're sexy when you're homicidal."

"Nice try." But there was affection in his sidelong glance. "Heads up, the locals have made an appearance."

Taking his shot to disguise the movement, Axel followed the line of Roxas' gaze to see a man in a cheap pinstripe suit talking to a security guard. "He doesn't look like the most colourful crayon in the box - just a thug."

"Axel, baby, if you wanna get technical, we're also thugs."

"We're _assassins_, sweetheart, that makes us thugs with _class_." He rolled his neck languidly. It made a satisfying crack.

Roxas rolled his eyes and took another shot. "Depending on how quick that security guard is, we might have company soon." There was a hint of razor in his slow smile. "It's about damn time."

"They're slow," Axel noted. "I wonder if there's been a change in management." His fingers moved a little higher up Roxas' leg teasingly.

"Either that or a change is coming." Roxas didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction, keeping his eyes on the punk. "I think he's finally seen us... Yeah, he's definitely seen us. Now he's watching, watching us watching him, making the connection and... _yes_, the lights have come on upstairs."

Axel smirked wickedly. "Here he comes. Who are we today?"

"Theodore and Neil," Roxas replied instantly, plucking a pair of names from their extensive repertoire of aliases.

"Theo and Neil it is." And, abruptly, his expression changed from darkly amused to a friendly smile as the unimpressive example of local PR reached their table. "Is there something we can do for you?"

The man offered up a jovial sort of smile of his own. It was slightly less convincing than Axel's, but when expectations were low it was hard to be disappointed, so neither of them were bothered. "You two caught my attention, that's all - thought I'd come over to say hi. You're not from around here, are you?"

Axel shook his head. "Just got into town this afternoon. I'm Neil, and this is my associate Theodore." Roxas smiled pleasantly and gave the man a jaunty little wave.

He nodded. "Neil and Theodore, got it. My name's John." The smile came back full-force. "What d'you two say we go into the bar for a friendly drink?"

Subtle as a train wreck. "Sure," Roxas said agreeably, rising fluidly to follow their new friend. "We were just about finished here, anyway. Weren't we, Neil?"

"The show was starting to get dull, yeah." Axel tucked a hand casually into the pocket of his neat black jacket and automatically fell into step beside Roxas, eyes trained on John's back.

In the fairly empty bar, all the charm they possessed between them came into play, blinding in its seeming sincerity. "John, we'll buy you a drink - what'll you have? No, wait," Axel's smile widened gleefully, "let me guess." He gave the man a careful once-over and paused thoughtfully. "Lime sour."

John blinked, slightly taken aback and obviously impressed. "Damn, how'd you guess that?"

He shrugged modestly. "It's one of my more peculiar talents. Lots of fun at parties, lemme tell you."

"He's never wrong," Roxas added, eyes burning bright in his pale face as he smiled winningly. "How does that corner table look for our friendly chat?"

John blinked again, visibly thrown by the way Axel and Roxas had slickly taken control of their encounter, then nodded as he regained equilibrium. "Looks fine."

"Excellent." Roxas smiled again and graciously motioned for John to go ahead of him, calling after Axel, "Get me something, would you, babe? You know what I like."

John glanced back at him curiously. "It's probably none of my business, but are you and him...?"

"Why?" Roxas tilted his head slightly to one side and took a seat. "Would it be a problem if we were?"

"No, no, that sort of thing's totally cool by me, no worries. Just wondering." He shrugged and drummed his fingers restlessly against his thigh. Roxas zeroed in on it instantly - nervous habits were dangerous in their industry.

"Well, then, I guess you could say we are. It's just one of those things, y'know?"

John made a noncommittal sort of noise that said, no, he really didn't, but Roxas didn't give a fuck one way or another, so he ignored it with another smile. They both looked up as Axel came over and sat down.

"So..." he began, his own smile dazzling. Axel always had been the charmer. "John. We're all grown men here, so let's not beat around the bush: is this really a friendly visit, or you just wanting to lay down some ground rules for the new kids on the playground?"

John gave him what was probably meant to be an appraising look, but as they didn't have much faith in the guy's powers of observation it didn't strike either of them as being particularly insightful. Their suspicions were proven right when he didn't seem to make any new connections. "Guess there's no point trying to sugar coat it, is there? You seem like sensible guys, no reason to make it complicated."

"I agree wholeheartedly," Roxas said mildly, picking up his drink. "Chin-chin."

John nodded and sipped his lime sour. He winced slightly. "Wow, they're going a little heavy on the liquor today."

"Are they?" Axel asked innocently. "If it's too strong, I'm sure they'd be happy to get you a new one."

Predictably, John almost instantly succumbed to masculine pride over rational thought and shook his head firmly. It was almost too easy. "No, it's fine, I can handle it."

Roxas kept his face impassive, but gave Axel a slow look through his eyelashes, shifting his eyes without turning his head. It was a look that promised a long, hot, sleepless night once they'd finished their game.

"Well, don't let us pressure you," he said, blue eyes widening with all the innocence he didn't have. "Neil and I can drink quite a bit when the mood's right, but we won't think any less of you for making it an early night. Gotta be careful when on the job, right?"

And that sealed it. Roxas and Axel both could see the determination set in. Men who weren't particularly bright were always easy to manipulate with little threats to their masculinity. On some level, conscious or not, the muscle of organisations always balked at the thought that a wide-eyed, delicate, very young little thing like Roxas could out-drink them. The fact that Roxas was, in fact, none of these things just wasn't worth mentioning.

"Anyway," John said, after pointedly finishing off two-thirds of his drink very quickly, "just touching base with you guys, so we don't have any problems. You're both Mafia men, from another part of the country, am I right?" Axel nodded and hid his smile behind the rim of his glass as the rest of the lime sour was polished off. "Well, I don't know if you're here for business or pleasure, but I'm sure we can all agree that no one wants to borrow trouble. So, feel free to enjoy the casino, but stay out of our business. Then we can stay out of yours and everyone goes home happy."

"Is it ever really that simple?" Roxas murmured thoughtfully, then smiled again and motioned for a waitress before John could respond. "Another drink?"

"Oh, um," John went through a brief, visible struggle with common sense. "Yeah, that sounds great." Common sense lost.

"Fa-antastic," Roxas replied languidly before smiling up at the girl. "Another lime sour for my friend, just like before. And I will have another of whatever this was." He looked at Axel. "What was it, baby?"

He waved a long hand negligently. "Something with a stupid name and a lot of Cassis."

"Okay, then, I'll have another drink with a stupid name and a lot of Cassis. You pick, sweetheart, I'm sure it'll be great." He winked at her, which got a genuine smile in return, and then turned back to the conversation. "Now, where were we?"

John stared at him. "Y'know, I've never understood why you gay guys have to go and flirt with hot women like that. I mean, it's not like you want anything, and it's distracting them from guys who _do_, so what's the point?"

Roxas successfully suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "It's not about getting something, it's about the fun of the game. I flirt with her, she feels good about herself and maybe gives me my drinks for free, then I leave with Neil and she has a story to tell her girlfriends tomorrow." He smirked. "Of course, the fact that it almost always leads to really good sex doesn't hurt. Jealousy can be a powerful aphrodisiac, you know."

"Me? Jealous?" Axel scoffed. "I think you'll find, honey, that _you're_ the jealous one."

"Hell yes," he agreed, as their new drinks very promptly arrived. "But I never said I wasn't."

John fidgeted a little bit, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking, which prompted him to drink more, much to his companions' satisfaction. A little more vodka and he'd be in a good position to tell them things they actually wanted to know. It was time for the real game to begin.

"So, John," Axel said casually after most of the drink had disappeared, "you noticed us pretty fast. Were you looking out for strangers or something?"

Roxas smirked behind his glass in response to the 'pretty fast' comment. Axel caught it out of the corner of his eye and tapped his knee under the table reproachfully.

"Actually, I was." The vodka was taking hold. It probably helped that the man wasn't a genius to begin with and had finished off something in the lobby before approaching them. "There's a rumour going through the grapevine that Axel and Roxas might be doing some work in Vegas soon and everyone's supposed to be keeping an eye out. Not that it'll do any damn good, if you know what I mean. Those two are like ghosts or something - I mean, how d'you spot people who are never seen?"

"How indeed," Axel murmured, smiling slowly. "Axel and Roxas, huh? How much do you know about them, if you don't mind my asking?"

John snorted and took another drink. "No more than anyone else, probably. Why, you looking?"

"You could say that," Roxas said easily.

"Well, I don't know if I can help you much. I mean, I just know what everybody in this business knows. They're a pair, free agents, and they've got those really weird names. Probably foreigners." Roxas, who was, in fact, from a very nice family in Vermont, took slight offence at that. "As far as anyone knows they've never _not_ finished a job, which is pretty damn impressive if you ask me, one of 'em uses a gun and the other one has _swords_, of all things, like some kind of fucking ancient samurai shit. And that's about it. I don't know if the higher-ups even know for sure what they look like, which is why it's so stupid to have us looking for them. Especially in a town like Vegas."

"Interesting," Axel said, even though it wasn't really. "Is that all you've got?"

"Yeah, pretty much." He took another long drink, draining the glass. "Sorry I can't help you guys out, if it's for work, but this sort of thing is a little out of my job class, if you get me."

"We get you," Roxas affirmed, sipping his drink with a stupid name and a lot of Cassis.

"So, where you guys from?"

"California," Axel said, which was more or less true and just vague enough to keep Roxas happy.

"San Francisco?" John replied, grinning at what he (and a number of other like morons) thought was a clever joke.

Roxas exhaled slowly through his nose, but to his credit didn't punch the guy. "No."

"Hey, man, I didn't mean to offend you," John said quickly, not dense or drunk enough yet to miss the crisp tone and temperature drop at the table. "It was just a joke."

"You didn't offend anyone," Axel interjected, smiling to compensate for Roxas' brief glower. "We just had a long day of driving and Theo can't sleep in cars, so we're both a little worn out."

John nodded understandingly and took it as a ready-made excuse to escape the conversation. "I get it - travelling sucks. Are you staying in the hotel?" It was Axel's turn to nod. "Well, then, I'll let you guys go to bed, get some rest. Thanks for having this little chat."

"Oh no," Roxas said, pleasant expression back in place. "Thank you. It was very informative."

And, with that, they took their leave, Axel settling his arm around Roxas' shoulders and pulling him firmly into his side.

"We need to pick a new state," Roxas muttered as they crossed the lobby. "Because I swear to God, Axel, if I hear that fucking San Francisco joke _one more time_, I will stab the idiot who says it in the fucking eye."

Axel laughed delightedly and squeezed him a little tighter. "You're so cute."

"I am not - I am righteously indignant and you're not helping." Roxas frowned up at him and jabbed the call button vindictively. "I hate stupid people."

Axel only laughed again. "Come on, my precious little sociopath, I think we should take our new friend John's advice and go to bed." He grinned down at him. "But I think I know a few things we can do that are better than sleep."

"Is that so?" Roxas arched a blonde eyebrow coyly, distracted from his annoyance. "Only a few?"

"Well..." Axel swept him into the empty elevator and pressed him against the mirrored wall, tapping the button for the twenty-first floor as they passed the panel. He pushed his knee between Roxas' legs and kissed him possessively, slipping his tongue past his teeth and running it along the ridges of the roof of Roxas' mouth. "Maybe a few more than that."

"I think..." Roxas drew in his breath sharply as Axel moved to kiss his way along curve of Roxas' collarbone before biting the side of his neck. "I think I'm good with that."

Axel grinned at him again before pressing another rough, wet kiss to his mouth. "I thought you might be."

-

There were exactly two things Axel and Roxas lived for. One was each other, though they never talked about it because it was sappy and stupid and not the kind of thing they spent a lot of time thinking about, anyway. The other was their work and why they did it, all the reasons that really, at the end of the day, were just one reason with many faces. It wasn't really about the thrill or the money or having an outlet for violent tendencies, though all of those things certainly helped them along, but what it _was_ about they didn't say aloud. They had once, in the early days when everything was still new, and that had been that. They knew, and they knew the other knew, and that was good enough.

A person had to be a particular sort of fucked up to want to be a hit man, or, as Axel more romantically liked to put it, an assassin. It took a special variety of crazy, coupled with a general inclination towards homicide. Sane, stable, well-adjusted individuals, in short, just weren't cut out for the job.

Axel and Roxas could not, and did not, claim to be any of those things and, as Axel buttoned his black jacket, watching Roxas pull on his can't-be-too-careful gloves, he was honestly glad they'd turned out that way. Had they been normal, happy, boring kids who'd gone on to have normal, happy, boring lives, they wouldn't have been thrown together and then everything would just have been dull monotony forever and ever.

The thought prompted him to cross the small distance between them and tilt Roxas' chin up for a quick kiss. When he pulled away, Roxas raised his eyebrows.

"What was that about?" He shoved Axel off so he could get his swords.

"Just wanted to." Axel grinned easily and checked his revolver. Then he picked up a second, semi-automatic, gun just in case.

Roxas made a vague, indifferent sort of noise, already distracted by his blades. "You ready, babe?"

"Always." He openly watched Roxas move, slightly entranced by how pretty he was when he was in his element, all dressed in crisp, well-tailored black with his swords at his waist. They may not have been subtle, but he definitely looked like sex wearing them. "Remind me to fuck you against a wall or something later, okay?"

Roxas laughed at that. "You think that's something you're likely to forget to do?"

Axel gave him another appraising once-over. "No."

"Well, then I won't have to remind you, will I?" He smirked and raked a hand back through his hair. "Show time."

-

"So, do you think we'll run into our good friend John sometime tonight?" Axel asked cheerfully, taking a corner a little too sharply and turning the music up a little bit more. _Goodbye, Mr A, you promised you would love us, but you knew too much..._

"I hope so," Roxas said seriously. "It'll give me a chance to stab him in the eye."

"Still stuck on the San Francisco comment, Roxie?" Axel grinned around his cigarette, which Roxas stole.

"Maybe I just want to prevent one more idiot from breeding. I'd be doing a service to humanity, really."

"You are so bloodthirsty sometimes." He took the cigarette back. "It's sexy."

Roxas smirked. "You think everything about me is sexy."

"It's true," Axel agreed solemnly. "Like your hands. You have some fucking sexy hands."

"So do you." The cigarette changed mouths again. Roxas smiled around it, then pulled it out to flick ash over the edge of the open window, exhaling slowly and watching blue-gray smoke curl up and out into the night air towards stars they couldn't see through the neon glow. "I should write a sonnet or something, about the sexiness of your hands. What do you think?"

"Do you know _how_ to write a sonnet?"

"Yes, actually." Roxas looked at him and his eyes gleamed in what passed for darkness in that town. "I was gonna be a creative writing major till I bailed on university to head out to California and become a gangster instead."

Axel shook his head. "You were a weird kid, Rox. Creative writing to killing people is a pretty big jump."

"You obviously have never spent much time around writers."

"Just you, apparently." Axel looked over at him briefly. "You ever thought about writing a book or something? I mean, just look at _The Godfather_ - you could be famous. This shit sells like nothing else."

Roxas shook his head and finished the cigarette, lighting another one from the butt before tossing it out the window. "I don't want to be famous. I just want to do this until we get tired of it, and then retire with you to some place where it's warm all the time and people will leave us the fuck alone."

"Ever the sociopath." Axel reached over and ruffled his hair fondly before snatching the cigarette out of his mouth.

"And you love it."

"I do." He nodded. "I love _you_."

There was a sudden silence, not because Roxas doubted it, or because it wasn't true, but because they almost never said it. Love wasn't really a word that came up much when life revolved around killing people for money and, on the very rare occasion it was spoken between them, there was something almost awkward about it. Like it was something fragile, even though they'd proven to themselves and each other that it wasn't at all.

"I know," Roxas said finally. "You, too."

Axel nodded in turn and the subject dropped. "You ready for this? We're taking out two different guys, so we're gonna have to move fast."

And they were back on safe ground. "When am I not ready?" He rolled his eyes dramatically. "I know what to do, Axel."

The music had switched to a song Roxas hated, so he changed it. Something bright and electronic, Asakura Daisuke or some other obscure Japanese musician Roxas loved and Axel didn't, came on instead and he leaned back, satisfied, as Axel replied.

"I know. You're all handy and reliable like that."

Roxas gave him one of his Looks and reclaimed the cigarette. "I'd say you were complimenting me to try to get into my pants, except we're way past that point, which means you're just being really weird. So knock it off, you're gonna distract me."

"Duly noted." Axel smirked. "After all, if you're not on top of your game, you won't be as sexy as usual. And we can't have that, can we?"

Roxas hit his arm and half-glared. "Shut up and drive, Axel."

-

Their first target's apartment was quiet and dark when they arrived, the door securely locked. But the man's car was in the garage, which indicated that he was probably home and sleeping. That made the chase a little less interesting, but the overall job easier, and sometimes boring but smooth was acceptable, especially when there was another job waiting.

Calmly, with the speed and near-but-not-quite-carelessness that came with experience and familiarity, Roxas picked the lock on the front door and let them in silently. They paused just inside and listened for any noise from the interior. When they didn't hear anything, they proceeded, moving like shadows through the faint, uneven light cast by the lights along the street below.

The target, a middle-aged, middle-ranking, middle-everything sort of Mafia man, was in bed, alone and asleep, as they'd suspected.

After exchanging a glance and reaching a silent agreement, Roxas walked over to stand next to the bed like a spectre of death as Axel flicked on the overhead light.

"Wakey, wakey, sunshine!" he sang out cheerfully, grinning like Christmas had come early.

The target stirred, groaned and opened his eyes, mouth dropping open as the light and manic redhead brought him rapidly to full consciousness. "...Huh? Wh-who the _fuck _are you?"

It was Roxas' turn to grin, and grin he did, leaning over the man to meet his gaze head-on. "We, my dear Mister Pack, are Judgement."

Pack stared blankly for a long moment before horrified realisation dawned. "You... you're them, aren't you?"

"Which them?" Axel asked, sauntering over to stand opposite Roxas, pinning Pack in.

"The hit men - Axel and Roxas." He sat up, scrambling back against the headboard like it would offer some sort of protection against armed and dangerous men. "You're here to kill me."

"We prefer the term 'assassin', actually." Axel grinned again.

"You know, if you were this clever all the time," Roxas drawled matter-of-factly, ignoring his partner, "you wouldn't be in this situation. You'd be sleeping peacefully, we'd be off killing someone else, and everyone would be happy. Unfortunately, you had to go off and be very stupid and, as I'm sure you know, this industry doesn't take very well to that sort of thing."

"Wait, wait!" Pack waved his hands desperately. "You don't have to do this. I mean, can't we reach some sort of agreement here, like civilised men?"

Axel shook his head, smiling down at him. "'fraid not, Pack. See, _you_ might not have any trouble breaking faith, but Roxas and I? We're a different breed. And we took out a hit on you, which we have every intention of carrying out."

"No hard feelings, though, huh?" Roxas added, his smile sweet like honey laced with acid. "It's not good to go on to the next life with any regrets, you know - you'll just get pulled right back into this world. No nirvana for you."

Pack's gaze flicked quickly between Roxas and Axel like he was quite convinced they were completely insane, but wasn't sure what he could do about it. His eyes darted towards the window behind Axel, wide and too-bright and afraid.

"Oh no," Axel said chidingly. "No, none of that. That window right there? Yeah, it's not your friend. Do you want to know why it's not your friend? It's not your friend because, should you try to escape through it, you will most definitely meet a highly unpleasant end against the concrete. And I assure you, the end you'll meet up here with us will be much nicer."

Roxas nodded sagely, like Axel had said something deep and insightful. "It's true. Because you know what they say: it's not the fall that kills you, it's that sudden stop at the end. And with us here, who knows? It could work out to be a little bit of both."

Pack flinched back into the headboard, hands shaking even though he clung to the comforter like a lifeline. "P-please. I haven't done anything wrong!"

Axel arched a thin, red eyebrow and smiled sardonically. "Nothing wrong? I'm afraid that we're going to have to disagree with you there. Betrayal, Mr Pack, is quite the crime. Particularly among men like us."

"It's all about information," Roxas interjected, almost dreamily. "The most valuable thing there is these days, isn't it? Relying on good faith and insured by blood."

"Dreadful, really." His partner shook his head ruefully. "Whatever happened to the handshake?"

"It went out of style when we learned to hold weapons in our hands." He was speaking mostly to Axel, but his too-blue eyes and poisonous smile remained on the trembling man on the bed. "Do you understand what's happening here, Mr Pack? What's happening _to you_?"

"You...you're going to kill me because I leaked information to a rival group." Pack's eyes were bright and terrified, but terror sometimes inspired honesty, which was what Axel and Roxas wanted. A last confession, perhaps, or maybe simply an acknowledgement of guilt before leaving the world of the living.

"Very good." Axel nodded approvingly. "That's it exactly." He lifted his revolver and casually double-checked that it was loaded properly. And that motion spurned Pack into action, albeit panic-driven and very foolish action.

Pack, with that sort of unnatural speed that came from a self-preservation instinct, however deeply buried it might normally be, lunged across the bed to grab the gun behind the bedside lamp. To his credit, he actually managed to get his fingertips around it before Roxas, in one fluid motion, slid one of his swords through Pack's right shoulder, pinning him to the headboard as the gun slipped from his loose hold, clattering to the floor.

"I don't think so," he said calmly, twisting the sword and drawing out a pained groan. "Nice try, though."

Axel watched his partner's reaction with something like amusement in his eyes. "Well," he said briskly, "I think that's quite enough of that, then, don't you? Sorry, hon," he smiled at Pack, "but we've got other appointments to keep." He levelled the gun at his forehead. "Good night."

The single shot was loud enough to draw attention from any nosy neighbours and, the second Axel's hand lowered, Roxas was moving, pulling his sword free and wiping it casually on the comforter before tucking it back against his side where it belonged. It took less than ninety seconds for them to get out of the apartment and back in the car.

Roxas looked at Axel as they pulled out of the parking lot and sped down the avenue. "That was boring."

Axel chuckled around a fresh cigarette, shifting it from one side of his mouth to the other. "The cowards always are."

-

Their second job of the night went remarkably, and remarkably boringly, like the first. The target was alone, in bed and proved to be a total coward in the face of his own imminent demise. They were in and out in ten minutes and back to their hotel room by just past two, a bit blood-spattered, but none the worse for wear.

"Axel, I want you to promise me something," Roxas said from where he was leaning against the balcony rail, a half-smoked cigarette in hand and mostly-bare skin still glistening wet from the shower.

"Hmm?" Axel looked up from where he was rubbing a towel through his own hair.

"If I ever reach a point where I am unable to face the reality of my own existence, I want you to shoot me in the head." He looked at Axel levelly through a thin cloud of cigarette smoke. "Because I _never_ want to be like _them." _He brushed damp hair back from his face absently. "You know I'd do it for you."

"Of course," he replied simply, without hesitation, tossing the towel aside and shaking his hair back. It was already drying into its natural wild spikes.

Roxas nodded and ground out the cigarette, flicking it into the darkness. "It's two-thirty in the morning and we haven't slept in forever, let's go to bed."

Axel smiled and it was a little bit softer than his usual manic grin. "Sounds good to me, Roxie."

-

The morning brought hot desert sunshine and their hotel room phone ringing, which was instantly suspect. They hadn't requested a wake-up call and no one should have known where they were to call. That was what the one mobile phone they kept between them was for.

They looked at each other and then at the phone, warily, before Axel reached across Roxas to pick it up.

"Hello?" His tone was casual, drowsy, almost bored, standing in sharp contrast to his narrowed eyes. Roxas settled back comfortably against his chest, like he was ready to just slip back to sleep, but his gaze was sharp and thoughtful and trained on Axel's face.

As the silence in the room stretched on, Roxas began to feel a bit edgy, and he slipped out from under Axel's arm to stretch and comb his fingers back through his hair. Axel's face was impassive and he let him go without any resistance, focused on whoever was on the other end of the line. After a few more seconds, he nodded, even though only Roxas could see it.

"Yeah, I got it." And he hung up.

"What's up?" Roxas asked, tilting his head slightly to one side.

"Someone somewhere is a hell of a lot smarter than we thought, because that was LA." No names, never names, even when they were alone. "There's one more job for us here."

"More fun than the last two, I hope."

Axel smirked and got out of bed to slip an arm around Roxas' waist and kiss him good morning. The kiss tasted like morning breath with a hint of nicotine, but there was something to be said for familiarity and they lingered.

"You remember that thing we said last night, about how a change might be coming? Looks like we were right."

Roxas' eyebrows shot into his hairline. "We're taking out a boss?"

"Yep." He traced abstract patterns across Roxas' lower back. "Maybe you'll get your chance to stab our new friend in the eye, after all."

"That'd be nice." He paused, though, pensive, and Axel waited patiently for him to say whatever he was really thinking. "This is big, Axel. How much is it paying?"

"Hundred grand, half of which is currently being transferred."

Roxas nodded. "That's a lot of money to turn down, isn't it? Looks like we've got a new job."

"You still look like you're worrying about something, sweetheart." Axel poked his forehead.

Roxas shrugged and batted his hand away. "Something about this feels wrong. I don't like it. But that's not going to stop us from taking the hit and doing it right, so it doesn't really matter. Just..." He hesitated. "Be careful."

Axel grinned. "I always am."

Roxas rolled his eyes and finally shoved Axel away so he could get dressed. "Yeah, whatever, Mr we-only-outran-the-cops-twice."

"Hey now," Axel protested, laughing, "I will have you know that I was being _very_ careful. The day we actually get stopped is the day you can bitch at me for dropping the ball."

A delicate snort and a sock in his face was the only response Roxas saw fit to give him, but the mood had lightened again.

Back to business as usual.

-

The day was devoted to recognisance, separately on the off chance that they were noticed and noted. A boss was not an easy target to locate, much less get close to, and there was more riding on this one job than on any job they'd taken on before. It had been inevitable, really, that they'd come to something like this, but that didn't mean they weren't going to do everything in their combined power to make it go smoothly and without hitch.

As it turned out, their combined power was fairly impressive and Axel called in one of the many favours he was owed, as a bit of added insurance.

"Vexen," he said smoothly, coming to the corner booth from behind his soon-to-be companion, and laying his hand lightly against the man's narrow shoulder before slipping into the seat opposite. "I'm so glad I was able to catch you in town."

Vexen's gaze was sharp and suspicious and Axel smiled at him, cheerful and unconcerned. The man was brilliant, but ultimately a bit of a coward. Too much time spent locked away with books and research, not enough spent out in the world getting the practical experience to match. Somehow, he still managed to know more than anyone else possibly could about the comings and goings of the criminal underworld, and that was why Axel wanted to talk to him.

"Stop playing games, Axel, and just tell me what you want." His voice was low and cool, but he spoke just a bit too quickly to sound relaxed.

"Who says I'm playing? It's been a long time, Vexen, maybe I'm just happy to see you again." He motioned for a server and leaned back in his seat.

"I say you're playing, Axel, because I know you."

"Do you really?" Axel blinked at him serenely, green eyes unnaturally bright in the sun-lit cafe, and then smiled up at the young man who stopped next to their table. "Iced coffee, cream and sugar, thanks very much."

"You're very irritating," Vexen replied flatly, after the server had returned to the counter.

"Careful, you're gonna hurt my feelings." He smirked. "Unfortunately, I'm a little short on time, so we're going to have to cut the small talk short. You owe me."

Vexen sighed and tucked his hair behind his ear. He and Axel had never got along well. "So that's what this is about."

"What else?" The coffee came and Axel methodically mixed two creams and one sugar into it, in that order.

"All right, fine. What do you want?"

"Information." He stirred the coffee one more time with his straw and sipped it.

Vexen sighed again, irritably. "About?"

"Local politics." He smiled sweetly and it made him look like a man who didn't have secrets.

"You've taken out a hit." Vexen rested his chin on his hand casually, but couldn't quite cover up the tension in his shoulders.

"The way you say that, you'd think it was unusual."

"Who is it?"

Axel chuckled and drank more of his coffee. "That'd be telling. This is great coffee, by the way, you should try it sometime."

Vexen was getting a pretty good idea of where things were going and ignored the teasing small talk. "You're going to get yourselves killed."

"Actually, we're planning on moving to Canada, where we can get married, adopt a couple of kids and buy a dog."

He rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

"I thought so," Axel replied agreeably. "So, you gonna tell me what I want to know, or what?"

"You mean, there actually _is_ an 'or what?'" His eyebrows rose slightly, almost sardonically.

"Yeah, but you really don't wanna know what it is." He smiled sharply, flashing teeth. It made Vexen nervous - razor wire coated in cherry syrup. Artificially sweet. Artificially artificial. Of the pair, Roxas always seemed more dangerous, colder and more distant, but Axel was the one Vexen was really wary of. He had to wonder, in the face of those smiles, if there was anything genuine about him at all.

"Fan_tas_tic." He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "All right, because I owe you, I'll tell you what's what once. _Only _once."

Axel grinned, the sharp danger gone like it had never been there. "Awesome. I'm all ears, babe."

Exactly eighteen minutes later, Axel left the cafe somewhat faster than he'd entered it to find a pay phone and call Roxas.

Unless Vexen was lying (in which case he would soon be meeting a few well-aimed and slightly vindictive bullets), they had a problem.

-

"What do you _mean_ the job's bad?" Roxas demanded, eyes narrowed to blue slits.

"Exactly what I just said, Rox - it's bad, we can't go through with it." Axel crossed his lanky arms loosely across his chest and would have looked completely calm had it not been for the tension in his neck and jaw.

"We already have the fifty grand - it showed up in the account about forty minutes ago. Everything's a go."

Axel shook his head sharply. "It's a _set-up_, Roxas, we can't take it."

Roxas exhaled sharply through his nose. "Where'd you get this, anyway?"

"Vexen. I called in a favour, information, just in case, and I'm fucking well glad I did, lemme tell you."

"He told you the job's bad?" Roxas hadn't moved since the conversation had started. If it weren't for the fact that he was talking, Axel would have thought he'd managed to go comatose while standing.

"No, I figured that out myself - did the math, you know? We're fucked if we go through with this. I vote we take the money we've got already and just duck and run."

Roxas was staring at him almost blankly. "In the eight years we've been together, Axel, we've _never_ not finished a job. What are you so afraid of now?"

And his patience and cool finally ran out. His hands dropped to his sides for a moment before he made a broad, pointless gesture with his right hand. Up and out and to the side, almost desperately.

"Losing you!"

It was like time had suddenly stopped. They stared at each other, silent, and it was like even Vegas, somewhere down below their hotel room balcony, had gone still.

"What?" Roxas managed finally, voice barely above a whisper.

"It's not worth it, Roxas. It's a set-up, one or both of us could get fucking killed for, what, money? Maybe that risk was okay back when we were first getting started, when everything was new and shiny and we didn't really give a damn about anything but the work, but we have something else to live for now." He scowled and his arms crossed again. "Can you honestly stand there and tell me a job is more important than us?"

The not-quite-blank stare was back. "But it's... I'm... it's not supposed to go like this."

"How's it supposed to go, Rox?"

"We're supposed to be fighting. That's why we started with this shit to begin with. It's all bullshit, it's all fake, institutionalised racism and sexism and homophobia and imperialism like we're still in the fucking sixteenth century, and nothing ever fucking changes, so we got out the only way we could. It's not... it's not about the jobs, it's about being outside the lines where things are maybe a little bit _real_."

Axel sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face. "Can't we take a break, Roxas? This is real, too. Can't we be happy with it? For just, like, five minutes? I'm not ready to let you go and if we keep going this way, that's what's gonna happen. It's not about me, it's about you and what we have between us."

"How do you know things will go wrong?" Roxas' eyes had gone from cooly narrowed to almost impossibly wide. It made him look like a child and part of Axel couldn't help but think it a travesty. Behind the big blue eyes, Roxas was worldly and cynical and far too jaded to be only twenty-seven years old.

"A feeling." He closed the distance between them and ran his hand down the curve of Roxas' cheek. "I can just feel it, Rox, this job will be the end of us. They're too smart, too well-connected, too powerful for us to come out on top."

"So you want to run."

He shrugged one shoulder. "We'll go on an extended holiday - a year, maybe two, just long enough for people to forget. Then we can make the greatest come-back of the century."

"Or stay where we are," Roxas whispered. "You know, if it's nice there."

Axel blinked, surprised. "Yeah, or that."

Roxas nodded, brisk and abruptly pragmatic, like the Roxas Axel was used to. "We've got a little over three hundred and fifty grand saved between the two accounts. That should get us somewhere, don't you think?"

"Definitely." And he smiled, finally, ducking his head to press a kiss to the corner of Roxas' mouth. "Where do you want to go?"

Roxas looked up at him and smiled back and Axel's breath caught in his throat because all of a sudden, just for a moment, his eyes had lost their ever-present sharpness and instead looked serene, happy, maybe even genuinely young.

"How does Venezuela sound?"


End file.
